


Dolorem Anteris

by WritinginCT



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon complieant through DH, Death of secondary character, Dying spouse, F/M, Family, Forced Marriage, Forgiveness, Friendship, Good Slytherins, Grief/Mourning, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Ignores CC, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo 2018, OC death, Original Character Death(s), Remarriage, Romance, Sobriety, Terminal Illnesses, Widowhood, marriage law
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritinginCT/pseuds/WritinginCT
Summary: When Hermione goes from Marriage Act bride to widow, Lucius Malfoy, her late husband’s oldest friend, helps her navigate grief and propriety in the high society the Ministry married her into even as he deals with the loss of his own wife.With forced remarriage looming for both of them, they make a decision which will infuriate both the Ministry and Blood Purists alike.





	1. Miss Granger:  The Marriage Act Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes: 
> 
> I got a little hooked on the marriage law plot device in the HP fandom and it made my overactive imagination open up another new tab to join the other 150+ tabs that are already open in the file browser of my mind to start working on this story. 
> 
> It's a plot that's been itching at my brain for a while now and NaNoWriMo is the perfect opportunity to write it. I'm running with a couple of tropes (Marriage Law plot device, not all Slytherins are bad, Lucius is a Lord) though this is not crack!fic by any means. I'll also be tackling the heavier concepts of alcoholism/sobriety, PTSD, living with and loving a dying spouse, widowhood, and eventually forgiveness, amends, and new beginnings.
> 
> It is set a few months after they all return for a final year at Hogwarts and graduate. Obviously it will be ignoring the canon epilogue and CC. It will ultimately be a Hermione/Lucius HEA (because I am eternally addicted to a HEA) but in reality it's three separate but intertwined relationship stories- Hermione/OMC, Lucius/Narcissa, Hermione Lucius.
> 
> While it is a Ministry-forced marriage, there will be no rape or sex that is in any way non-consensual between the partners and this story is labeled to reflect that. Yes, I am aware that technically any sex between partners forced to marry can be classified as Ministry-sanctioned rape, however, my goal here in describing the physical relationships between the characters is so that people can avoid triggers and not to debate the minutiae of what defines rape. 
> 
> To that end I will just say that when any two characters engage in sexual relations in this story it is because they genuinely want to be with their partner in that way, in that moment, with no violence or pain, only attraction and mutual desire. In fact, there will be no violence at all save for mentions of things that happened in canon (Hermione at Malfoy Manor, DoM, BoH, et cetera). 
> 
> This is a love story, well technically I guess it is three separate but intertwined love stories, and while the Ministry may have forced some of them to marry, it did not force the feelings and desire that grew between any of them.
> 
> ~WritinginCT
> 
> Feedback always welcome at writinginct@gmail.com

_October 1, 1999_

The entire breakfast table at the Burrow was filled with those bristling with outrage.

“How dare they,” Hermione said, her cheeks flushed with anger as she re-read the official letter from the Ministry.

Harry was reading over her shoulder having not received a letter of his own. “A Marriage Act? They’re going to force people to get married? Have they gone mad?”

Percy piped up from across the table, Ron’s letter letter in hand. “Not only that, but the Ministry is going choose who you marry. You’ll have no say in it. _Those_ official notifications are to be delivered later today supposedly. I honestly can’t believe this passed. Something seems very wrong with how it all came about. There was no notice, no public discourse, no hearings, nothing, it just doesn’t add up.”

“It’s not right,” Molly said angrily as she dished sausages out onto everyone’s plates, “it’s not right at all.”

“They have to be out of their minds,” Ginny said curtly as she read Ron’s letter.

Ron speared a link from his plate and waved it on his fork between Harry and Ginny and asked, “Why didn’t Harry get one? Or Ginny? Or Percy? They’re not married.” before he bit off half the sausage and began to chew. Nothing could ruin Ron’s appetite.

Hermione was the one who answered, “Because Harry and Ginny have a formal betrothal contract on file at the Ministry which is legally and magically binding and the Ministry can’t break that. And Percy most likely didn’t get one because they are apparently doing this in cycles a year apart with a certain number of names being drawn each time and his name wasn’t drawn this time.”

Harry had never been so grateful that Mr. Weasley had informed him of the betrothal contract practice shortly after he had proposed to Ginny last summer and that they had officially taken care of it post haste. Harry looked to Ginny and gave her a wane smile, happy that they weren’t affected by the new law but still upset about how it affected everyone else.

A moment later the Floo activated and an angry George stepped through, his own letter clutched in his hand. “They’ve gone completely barmy!”

George pulled out the chair next to Hermione and sat down heavily. Dramatically he took Hermione’s hand and pleaded, “Let’s elope. That’ll take us off their mailing list.”

In spite of everything it made Hermione smile. Truth be told, if they had been given a deadline but still the choice of who they married, George would have been very high on her list of preferable husbands. While she and Ron might not have worked as a couple, she and George were both driven, ambitious, and intelligent. She could do far, far worse in a husband than handsome and brave George. Unfortunately she had to break the news to him. “I honestly would if we could, but that’s no longer an option. I’m guessing you didn’t read the whole letter. The Ministry is assigning us matches, matches that are magically binding as of this morning, we have no say in it at all. It’s their match or exile from the wizarding world in Britain.”

“Bloody hell,” George spat out then sheepishly apologized to his mother, “Sorry, Mum.”

Molly was scooping out scrambled eggs onto everyone’s plates and with a curt little nod of irritation she replied, “That about sums up all our feelings on the matter. Now, everyone, eat. It’s going to be a long day.”

They all tucked into their breakfast and were still yapping back and forth over the whole debacle when Kingsley’s patronus came through the wall.

Kingsley’s familiar baritone came from the patronus, _“I’m sorry. They passed this in secret last night with the absolute minimum number of Wizengamot members present to vote. I didn’t know anything about it, and I was purposely kept away from the Ministry last night, the sneaky bastards. I’m doing all I can on this end, but as it stands right now, it is the law. I know it’s hard, but please keep calm. I’ll keep you informed as I know more.”_

The patronus faded leaving an eerie quiet in the normally boisterous room.

Hermione shook her head. “There has to be something we can do. I’m not going to be married off just because they say so. With my luck it would be someone who hates Muggle-borns or some ancient old codger or even some obnoxious combination of the two.”

Harry looked at her with concern, he hadn’t even thought along those lines. Solemnly he vowed, “No one is going to hurt you, Hermione, husband or not. I promise. If I have to take on the whole Ministry you know I will.”

Hermione turned and threw her arms around Harry and hugged him fiercely. “I know. I’m hoping it won’t come to that though,” she whispered as she squeezed him close, “we’ve done enough fighting for one lifetime.”

Harry pulled back and nodded before turning and picking up his fork. It was going to be a very long day.

……………………

While that outraged breakfast was going on at the Burrow, across the country another, far different, though equally outraged, breakfast was taking place.

This breakfast was a bit more formal, far less boisterous, and was being served by house elves in the solarium of an enormous, but cheerful, manor house to two elegantly dressed wizards.

Lucius Malfoy wiped his mouth and picked up his tea cup. He sipped it calmly and listened as the man across from him swore fluently in French as he read the letter from the ministry which had just been delivered.

The other elegantly dressed man was Lucius’ age, and had, in fact, started Hogwarts as a Slytherin firstie with Lucius. While Lucius was blond and fair with ice grey eyes, Xavier Lavigne had a mop of rather unruly brown hair and blue eyes which were normally warm and friendly when he wasn’t being infuriated by the Ministry. He was not nearly as broad in stature as Lucius, rather he was thin and a bit pale with a tiredness on his face that no amount of rest could banish.

“They cannot be serious,” Xavier said in English as he slapped the letter down on the table rattling all the delicate Lavigne family crest monogrammed china breakfast was served on.

Lucius put his cup down on the saucer and replied, “Unfortunately they are. I told you weeks ago there were rumors that it would happen.”

“Tell me you didn’t support this?”

“Of course not, quite the opposite. But I may have bribed my way into seeing the list of matches.”

“So you know whom I’m paired with, then?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, spit it out then, Lucius. Don’t make me wait in suspense,” he demanded irritably.

“You are to marry Hermione Granger,” Lucius replied flatly.

“What? Harry… Potter’s friend?” the normally overly articulate Xavier stammered out bleakly.

“Indeed.”

“She can’t be more than twenty-years old. I’m old enough to be her father for pity’s sake, Lucius. What were they thinking?”

“Of everything about her, it’s her _age_ that bothers you, old friend? Not that fact that she’s a Muggle-born?” Lucius asked wryly, not using the slur that had completely dropped out of casual use in polite social conversation regardless of ideology since the war.

Xavier just glared at Lucius and raised his eyebrow. Blood purity was point of disagreement between the two men and had been since their school days. While the Lavigne family did tend to marry only witches and wizards and had not had a Muggle in the direct family tree in over three hundred years, they cared not if said witches and wizards were of pure blood, mixed blood, or Muggle-born.

Lucius waved his hand dismissively. “Discussion for another time then. Think about it this way, all single witches between the ages of seventeen and forty are affected by the law. You could have been paired with an absolute troll of a woman. Miss Granger is at least intelligent and fairly pleasing to the eye for a Muggle-born.”

“Still, Lucius, she’s a young woman, certainly they should have paired her with a young, healthy wizard with whom she could have a future.”

“Those that pushed for this law see only the fact that so many witches and wizards were lost in the war and how few children have been born in the past decade. They don’t care about compatibility or the age-appropriateness of the pair, they simply want babies with magic being born.”

“It’s repugnant.”

“I agree,” replied Lucius without hesitation.

Xavier closed his eyes and rubbed his brow before saying softly, “She’s going to hate me, Lucius.”

“Doubtful, old friend. Now if your surname were Lestrange…,” Lucius teased dryly.

The other man’s eyes opened wide in horror. “Merlin, Lucius, she could have been paired with one of the Death Eaters in Azkaban or one of the Voldemort supporters who managed not to go to prison. Many of those wizards are eligible. Who _knows_ what they would have done to her.”

“Indeed. All things considered, your pairing is not the worst that could have been arranged for either of you. She will have the protection of a respectful husband with a good name who cares not for blood status and you will have a future heir by an intelligent and attractive witch.”

“I know nothing about her personally. I know of her role in the war, obviously, but nothing personal about her.”

“Much has been written about her in the Prophet, though you’ll have to separate fact from fiction, especially where Rita Skeeter is concerned. You might owl Draco as well, while not friends, they were schoolmates, and he would perhaps have some insight into her personality for you.”

“I’ll do that,” Xavier muttered before picking up his fork and starting to eat the breakfast before him. Both Lucius and the house elves would nag at him unmercifully if he skipped yet another meal, not at all caring about his ever-present lack of appetite.

Lucius left immediately after breakfast and Xavier had a house elf apparate him to his study. While he could have done it himself, it left him drained, something a person in his condition needed to avoid at all costs, and all of his elves cared far too much for him for them to think anything wrong with serving him in such a simple way. Before dismissing the elf he asked her to go through the old copies of the Daily Prophet archived in the library for articles about Miss Granger. The little elf apparated away to do just that and Xavier sat at his desk to compose two letters.

The first was a quick note to Draco inquiring about Miss Granger and why. He had just given it to one of his many owls to deliver when his elf reappeared with a stack of clippings from the newspaper. While a bit awed at how fast she accomplished the task he didn’t think too much on it having long ago decided that house elf magic was a thing onto itself best not looked at too closely.

Article by article he read about his future bride and her exploits. While the Prophet wasn’t known for being unbiased, or even completely accurate most of the time, he was able to get a glimpse of the young witch’s mettle.

When he was done he pulled out a fresh sheet of his favorite elegant stationery and began crafting a second letter, this one with much more thought and care than the first.

……………………

tbc...


	2. Miss Granger:  The Marriage Act Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter flowed really well from my fingers to the keys this morning and I spent a good while editing it this afternoon. But if anyone sees typos or wrong/missing words just let me know and I'll fix. -CJ

Shortly after lunch they were again all gathered around the Burrow’s kitchen table with Ministry letters, this time unopened. The owl had delivered them a few minutes ago but no one had made a move to open them.

Molly took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, there’s no use in putting it off. Ron, you go first.”

Ron nodded nervously and broke the seal on his letter. He quickly scanned it looking for the name of his Ministry assigned intended. He smiled and announced, “Katie Bell.”

“Oi, that’s not bad at all, Katie’s great,” George replied as he made to open his letter. Like Ron, he scanned it quickly to find a name, but unlike Ron he didn’t smile, but rather a little flush crept up the back of his neck and he gulped hard.

When he didn’t announce the name, Percy prodded, “Well? Who did you get?”

“Angelina Johnson,” George croaked out.

There were a few gasps around the table as everyone had fully expected Fred and Angelina to have married after the war, Fred’s death obviously making that impossible. Now here was poor George being matched with her. It would be a huge emotional can of worms the two dear, still-grieving friends would have to work through if they were to have a happy future together.

Seeing how uncomfortable George was Molly refocused the group’s attention elsewhere. “Hermione, what does yours say?”

She was about to open her own letter when the Floo activated and Arthur stepped through. He took a quick look around at the tense faces in the kitchen and said, “Ah. The matches have arrived? So tell me who’ve you all gotten paired with.”

They quickly went around the table, Arthur nodding at each name. So far, no one was paired with anyone horrible. He looked to Hermione who hadn’t said anything and asked, “And you, dear?”

Hermione lifted her still sealed letter. “I haven’t looked yet,” she said before she took a breath and broke the seal. She swallowed hard and announced, “Lord Xavier Lavigne.”

Everyone started talking around her, excited that over the fact that he was a lord, but Hermione focused in on Arthur who said in awe, “Really? Lord Lavigne?”

Hermione nodded. She had no idea who Lord Lavigne was. “Do you know him?”

“Indeed, I do. He’s a good man, Hermione, a bit sickly, but a good man none the less.”

“How… old is he?” she asked in a wavering voice.

Gently Arthur replied, “About forty-five I believe. He was a first year when I was a sixth.”

The bottom fell out of Hermione’s stomach and she bolted from the table to reach the loo before she vomited violently.

……………………

A moment later Hermione felt her hair being lifted safely out of the way and a warm hand rubbing her back. Her tears started in earnest and she turned to see Harry there with love and concern in his eyes.

Harry handed her a wet washcloth to wipe her face, then a glass of cool water to rinse her mouth. She sat down on the floor next to the toilet and let her tears flow.

Harry sat next to her and took her hand in his. “Arthur says Lavigne is a good man. He’s generous to different charities and donates a lot to Hogwarts, especially the library. I guess he’s got a bad heart or something so he doesn’t go out much, been that way since he was born. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Hermione. I know he’s older but he’s not completely ancient.”

“Why would they do that to me though? Surely there was someone closer to our age they could have matched me with?”

“I don’t know. But it could have been much worse. There are a lot of Voldemort supporters who are falling under the law, even the Death Eaters in Azkaban aren’t exempt. They’re going to be married off and given conjugal visits. The Ministry is that afraid of what’s happening to the magical birthrate.”

Hermione sucked in a deep breath and huffed it out. “You’re right. Perhaps I should talk to Arthur a bit more since he knows Lord Lavigne.”

“I think that’s a good idea… but maybe brush your teeth first,” he added with a little tic of his head.

His purposeful deadpan delivery made her grin, his intention all along.

……………………

Hermione and Arthur retreated to his workshop to talk. He told her all he knew about Lord Lavigne, both public knowledge as well as his own interactions with the man. It was clearly evident that Arthur held him in high regard, very high regard, but he wasn’t the one who had to marry him.

When Hermione’s tears started anew, Arthur gave her his handkerchief and said, “I know I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, my dear girl, but Xavier Lavigne is a kind and gentle man. I can’t imagine him being anything other than respectful and sensitive to you and your feelings over this whole thing.”

Hermione nodded then wiped her eyes and tried to square her chin. She sniffed hard and teased the man she thought of as a surrogate father, “They couldn’t have paired me with _any_ of your sons?”

He clucked her chin and teased back, “Even Percy?”

She chuckled nd replied, “Even Percy. Don’t tell anyone I said this but I had a little bit of a crush on him when I first started Hogwarts.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a warm, fatherly hug. A hug she desperately needed and happily returned.

……………………

When Arthur and Hermione entered the kitchen a short while later they found two owls perched on the window sill. One was a large, imposing black and white Great Horned owl who held a sealed letter in his beak. The other was a small barn owl who was white with light tan head and wing feathers. This owl held no letter but had a thin red satin ribbon tied in a bow around her leg.

Molly pointed to the birds and said, “Hermione, those are for you.”

Hermione approached and the little barn owl happily started hopping up and down in excitement. It bobbed its head all around and was just being rather silly. She reached over and gave the owl a scratch and the happy little bird jumped on her hand and proceeded to walk up her arm to settle itself contently on her shoulder.

“I think she likes you, Hermione,” Harry said from his seat at the kitchen table where he was playing chess with George. The two young men were trying to keep their minds off of the current state of affairs while Ron was off meeting Katie to discuss _their_ situation.

Hermione smiled and reached over and gave the affectionate little owl another scratch before turning her attention to the other, more business-like owl and took the letter it held. He waited, apparently expecting a reply.

Her hands shook a little as she saw the Lavigne family crest embossed into the thick, rich paper of the envelope.

Still staring at the letter in her hands she sat down hard in the empty chair next to Harry. She swallowed nervously and turned the envelope over. It was sealed with a dark plum wax stamped with an elegant signet. She ran her finger over the wax and the elegant swirls and scrolls surrounding the prominent XL in the center. Hermione took a slow breath in and let it out before breaking the seal and reading the letter.

Everyone in the room was watching her reaction with bated breath. They saw her go from apprehensive to surprised to smiling and back to a neutral sort of expression, but one that was not entirely unhappy.

……………………

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_To introduce myself, I am Xavier, Lord of House Lavigne. By now you will have received the same missive I have from the Ministry indicating that we are legally required to marry. There is nothing in all the etiquette lessons my mother drilled into me that quite deals with a situation such as this so I will beg your forgiveness in advance if I give you any inadvertent offense._

_I know very little about you, to be honest, especially since I tend not to take much stock at all in the accuracy of the Daily Prophet, but I am aware that you are a lovely, driven young woman with a brilliant future before her, one who most likely had absolutely no plans to marry someone like me. While we may have to adhere to the letter of the law, we will not let it cage your dreams and aspirations and I promise you here and now that I will in no way hinder your ambitions and will, in fact, support you and your endeavors however I may. This is something I feel most strongly about, Miss Granger, and while I hope that my words here ease some of your fears of our future together I would be most willing to make an Unbreakable Vow with you to further alleviate any doubt about you dictating the course of your own career or further education. We will also ensure that it is included in our betrothal contract and, if you like, we can include it in our formal wedding vows in some way. I desire a wife who is my equal, Miss Granger, not one who is subservient or stifled and trapped like a rare bird in a gild cage._

_Miss Granger… Hermione, if I may be so bold? You and I are both intelligent enough to understand that this law is a disaster in the making. But perhaps we can salvage something? A cordial friendship? An intellectual partnership of sorts? Or perhaps even some combination of the two? From what little I do know of you and from what I have read about your incredible exploits in the war, I believe we may have things in common upon which we might build the foundation of our future._

_Honestly I am thankful we were paired with each other, in many ways we are quite lucky. I have heard about the morbidly awful pairings others are saddled with, some with absolutely no hope of finding a common ground between them. And I shudder to think of the other unsuitable men eligible under this law that they could have paired you with. Hermione, I know I am far from what you most likely ever envisioned as your husband, but had the pairings gone another way, you might well have been paired with a Death Eater, and that, quite frankly, is a thought so perverse given who you are that it goes most aggressively against nature herself._

_In the past those with arranged marriages generally had an abundance of time to court and get to know one another before they were wed. Unfortunately, we do not have that luxury. I would, however, like to take as much time as we can to become acquainted and sort out our shared future. In that spirit, Hermione, I would extend to you an invitation to tea here at Lavigne Hall tomorrow so that we may meet one another. I understand you are friends with the Weasley family and I have known Arthur Weasley since we attended Hogwarts. So please feel free to have Mr. Weasley escort you if you like, in fact, bring anyone at all who will make you feel more comfortable. It is my hope that your first impression of Lavigne Hall will be a positive one and that you will enjoy inviting your friends and family here to our home in the future, all of whom will be most welcome._

_Charbon, that far too serious Horned owl of mine, will await your reply. As I am unaware of your current living situation and whether or not you have ready access to an owl, the happy little barn owl is my gift to you and will facilitate our future communications. Her name is Sauterelle and I should mention that you have the exuberant five-year old son of her breeder in France to thank for that. She is a most affection little bird with a propensity for hopping about like a grasshopper when she is excited, hence her name._

_I shall close here and hope that I have not offended you in any way. Without knowing you better I can only imagine the makeup of the myriad of thoughts and emotions you must be experiencing, but know this, you are not alone in them. I, too, am nervous and a bit apprehensive about being married to a total stranger, but I intend to approach it, as I do everything, with an open mind and a willingness to learn and grow. It is my hope that we can find that common ground I spoke of and build a (dare I hope happy?) marriage with a foundation of mutual respect and kindness for one another upon which we can build all else._

_I will await your reply to my invitation and am sincerely look forward to meeting you, circumstances not withstanding._

_Yours,_  
_Xavier_  
_House Lavigne_

……………………

Hermione was unexpectedly emotional after reading the letter.

Xavier had indeed eased some of her biggest fears with his heartfelt words. He wouldn’t sequester her away from her friends, nor would he stop her from having a career. He didn’t want her to be a little aristocratic puppet of a wife simpering at his feet. No, he wanted an equal, a partner, and he asked only for kindness and respect which he would reciprocate. It all sounded almost too good to be true.

She looked up from the letter to see everyone staring at her awaiting her reaction. Not quite knowing what to say, she bolted out of the room with a quick, “Excuse me,” falling from her lips.

Hermione had all but forgotten Sauterelle sitting on her shoulder and the little bird gripped her shoulder carefully during Hermione’s flight from the kitchen to the garden outside.

She made her way to the edge of the orchard and sat on the ground with her back against a large stone marking the entrance to the orchard. Sauterelle hopped from her shoulder down to her bent knee. The little bird was cooing happily and looking around with interest. A fat vole zipping around in the fallen leaves caught the birds eye but she didn’t chase after it. She looked up to Hermione and back to the vole scurrying away.

Hermione smiled and said softly, “Go on, you can catch him.”

Sauterelle nipped her finger playfully and launched into the air. After a merry chase through the orchard, Sauterelle had her prey and settled herself up on a branch to eat it.

Not wanting to see the poor rodent devoured, even though she knew it was a part of nature, Hermione turned and re-read Xavier’s letter. His words sounded genuine and she sincerely hoped that he meant them.

She heard soft footsteps approach and turned her head to see Harry and Ginny. They sat down next to her and without a word she handed Harry the letter as Ginny gave her a squeeze in a one-armed hug.

When he was finished reading Harry handed the letter off to Ginny and said lightly, “Well… he doesn’t sound horrible.”

“No, he doesn’t. I’m just afraid it’s too good to be true and that I’m being wound up for disappointment.”

Ginny finished reading the letter and added her opinion. “I don’t think he would go through all the trouble of writing a letter like this if he didn’t mean it and people don’t throw offers of Unbreakable Vows around lightly.”

Hermione let out a deep breath. “Will you two go with me to Lavigne Hall tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Harry replied without hesitation.

“You know Dad would go, too, if you asked,” Ginny offered.

Hermione shook her head. “I think it’ll be fine with just the three of us.”

“What about Ron?” Harry asked.

“No. You know I love him but sometimes his manners leave a little to be desired. I’d like to make as good a first impression as possible.”

They all stood to head back to the house. But before anyone could say another word an elegant eagle owl flew overhead and dropped an envelope to Hermione.

The parchment envelope was plain and unadorned. It was sealed with a bit of emerald green wax and pressed with a signet design that was also rather plain and was comprised of a neatly typeset DM inside of a single circle.

It was a signet Hermione knew well as she had seen it grace Draco Malfoy’s hand when they had both returned to Hogwarts for a final year of schooling after the war. Everything about Draco since the war had been about being unobtrusive and unoffensive. He was doing his veritable best to simply blend in and not draw attention to himself.

Hermione opened the envelope and pulled out a short note from Draco. He asked her to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron that evening and that it was important. It seemed an odd request, but given the oddness of the entire cursed day, it fit right in.

They walked back to the house and Sauterelle flew happily ahead of them to land on the windowsill.

Once they reached the kitchen Hermione faced the rest of the family still milling about the kitchen and said, “His letter was very kind and he seems… nice. I’m going to tea tomorrow afternoon to meet him. Harry and Ginny are going to go with me.”

Mrs. Weasley stepped over and gave Hermione a hug. “Arthur said he’s very good person. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It will all sort itself out.”

Molly could say that, but then again, she wasn’t the one being forced to marry a complete stranger more than twice her age.

After Molly let her go, Hermione quickly scratched out a reply to Draco and gave it to her cooing little owl and sent her off with a scratch behind her wing. She then took a moment to write out a more formal reply to Lord Lavigne accepting his invitation to tea and gave it to the other owl who was still patiently waiting.

That done, Hermione nodded then said goodbye to everyone and flooed back to Grimmauld Place, which she and Harry had been calling home since the war ended and neither had anywhere else to go. She wanted a little time alone to process her thoughts before meeting Draco at the Leaky Cauldron.

……………………

tbc...


	3. Miss Granger: The Marriage Act Part III

Charbon accepted a dried cricket from Xavier and surrendered the folded parchment he was carrying. “Thank you, Charbon,” he said softly and the owl hooted in reply before flying off to the large, multi-tiered owl perch in the corner of Xavier’s study which currently held a trio of other owls resting there awaiting missives to carry. Charbon landed on the the top tier of the perch, his normal resting spot as ruler of the roost, and settled himself for a nap until he was needed again.

Xavier sat back down in his comfortable chair by the fire and opened the parchment.

_Dear Lord Lavigne,_

_Your kind words in your letter surprised me in the best sort of way on a day full of unparalleled surprises. You touched upon some of my biggest concerns and did alleviate my worry in a way that almost seems too good to be true if I am to be honest. However, Mr. Weasley has spoken very highly of you and between his words and yours my heart is telling me to take the path you mentioned about keeping an open mind and a willingness to learn and grow._

_In that spirit I would be happy to accept your invitation to tea tomorrow. Harry Potter is the closet thing I have to family and is my dearest brother in all but blood. He and his fiancee Ginny Weasley would like to accompany me to tea if that is not an inconvenience._

_I apologize for the briefness of this letter, I am normally much more verbose, but today I find that I am a bit overwhelmed and at a total loss for words. I promise I will be more myself tomorrow and I do sincerely look forward to meeting you._

_Yours,_   
_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. - Thank you so much for Sauterelle, I’ve never had an owl of my own and she is a delightful little bird. -HG_

Xavier smiled a little at the letter. He could appreciate her being overwhelmed, it was that sort of day. He, himself, was still reeling over the idea that the Ministry had paired him with such young and vibrant witch. He knew of her of course, the entire wizarding world knew _of_ her, but he had no idea what her personality was truly like or what her ambitions and desires in life are. She should have been paired with some young, healthy wizard with whom she could have a long and happy life together and not a man old enough to be her father who can’t even walk the length of his own manor without needing to sit and rest four times along the way. Indeed, their pairing was a bit mind-boggling but as he had written to her, they both could have done far, far worse.

Xavier was not at all unfamiliar with the notion of having an arranged marriage, he had been through it all before. Xavier’s first arranged marriage, crafted by his late father when Xavier was twenty-three, dissolved when the primary condition of their betrothal contract, that of her producing a Lavigne heir within two years, was not met. As circumstances unfolded it had come to light that his bride was, in fact, barren and had hidden her condition with some rather intricate charm work that had fooled even the best healers. She had wanted his money and title thinking that his poor health would make him easy to blame for their lack of an heir and therefore circumvent the betrothal contract. But a single slip of the tongue by her dotty old aunt during his wife’s birthday celebration at the manor had revealed the truth and brought her entire charade crashing down. The marriage was immediately annulled and she became a social pariah. Last he had heard she had never married again and was working as a seamstress back in her native Paris.

His father’s passing soon thereafter meant it was the only arranged marriage Xavier was forced into against his wishes, until now that is, now here he was facing a second arranged marriage with the added burden of producing no fewer than three Ministry required children over the next ten years. Little did they know that he wasn’t likely to live another _five_ years, let alone ten.

He looked around his study seeing artifacts of generations of Lavignes tucked here and there. Xavier had no heir save some distant cousin three times removed, a brash uncouth drunkard if the report of the detective Xavier had hired to find him was accurate. It distressed him that the beautiful estate and title would go to such a man. Perhaps the one shining light Xavier could see in this whole Marriage Act debacle would be that he might have a legitimate heir of his own.

He put the letter down and picked up the stack of clippings from the Daily Prophet that his house elf had gathered for him earlier. There were some repugnant pieces written by Rita Skeeter early in his future bride’s school career. Then there were of course the ones describing her as the worst sort of criminal that had been written during the war when Voldemort controlled the Prophet. Next came the ones immediately after the battle at Hogwarts heralding her as a hero and some just beyond that as she participated in the rebuilding of the school. After that the articles dwindled as she had returned to finish her education and sit her NEWTs and was out of the public eye as Headmistress McGonagall was very adept at keeping unwanted reporters out of Hogwarts.

He set the stack back down save for the very last article. It was an announcement from this past summer that she had been awarded a prestigious internship at the Ministry as part of her wizarding law mastery program. They had included a picture of her from her graduation ceremony at Hogwarts. The photographer had caught her unaware and the moving picture showed her first in profile oblivious to the camera then she turned and was at first surprised but then gave the camera a warm smile. It was quite the lovely photograph.

As he looked at her picture, he thought himself quite lucky to find himself paired with such an ambitious, beautiful young witch. He closed his eyes and daydreamed for a moment picturing her here, in his home, on his arm as his lady wife. He could picture them having deep intellectual conversations about law and other things they both found interesting. He wondered if she would enjoy his library as much as he did and would they spend quiet evenings there reading together? He liked the fact that she was not an empty-headed socialite, not that there was anything wrong with that per se, but it was just not the type of wife he could see himself bound to happily.

His health prohibited him from being physically active and he knew his body was not on par with other healthy men his age. One only had to look to Lucius to see that. His oldest friend was broad across the chest and shoulders, his strength more than evident. Lucius was, almost obscenely, fit, a perfect specimen of a wizard in his prime, and Xavier could in no way compare. And given that he couldn’t compare to even men his own age, he had no hope at all of comparing to the strapping young men Hermione had in her life. Would she find him at all attractive or be utterly repulsed by him? He pondered on what it would be like to kiss her and to feel her petite body wrapped in his arms. Would she, _could_ she, enjoy his touch? Would their marriage bed be one only used to adhere to the law or might they find some joy in pleasing one another there? He sincerely hoped for the latter.

Like turning the pages of a photo album yet to come, he let his mind craft the marriage he desired for them. He could so clearly see it all now- a beautiful, family and friend filled wedding, a gentle and most romantic wedding night, quiet evenings together in the library, curling up around each other in bed to sleep in each other’s arms, him sitting proudly in the audience as she was awarded her Mastery, fanciful holidays at the Manor surrounded by laughter and friends, and finally admiring the new decorations in the nursery as he stood next to her with her stomach gently rounded with his son… his heir.

His daydream turned into an actual dream as he slipped into sleep right there in his chair. His dream skipped ahead and took him again to the manor’s nursery where he found her tucked into the window seat with a toddler who had a familiar mop of dark brown hair on her lap as they shared a storybook. Both mother and son looked up at his entrance with big brown eyes and smiles, smiles he returned wholeheartedly as she extended her hand to pull him down next to them on the window seat to finish their book.

Xavier was smiling in his sleep when his personal house elf, Franzy, popped into the room. It was not the first time his master had fallen asleep in that chair. He carefully plucked the clipping out of his master’s fingers and then gently tucked a warm wool blanket around him. Franzy had been with the Lavigne family long before Xavier was born and had taken care of his master his whole life. He glanced at the picture the master had been looking at, knowing it was the girl the master was to marry, and hoped that she would be kind to his master and not at all like his first wife who had lied so cruelly.

Franzy build up the fire a bit to keep his master from any chill and quietly left the room.

……………………

tbc...


	4. Miss Granger: The Marriage Act Part IV

Hermione slid into the chair across from Draco at a tucked away table at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Granger,” he said in what passed as a civil tone for Draco as she shucked her jacket.

“Malfoy,” she countered as civilly.

The waitress approached and Draco looked to Hermione and asked, “Butterbeer?”

She nodded and added, “With ginger please.”

Draco’s expression was a bit bewildered but he turned to the waitress and ordered two butterbeers with ginger.

At Hermione’s questioning eyebrow he said, “What? I like to try new things and I’ve never had it with ginger before.”

Hermione grinned and decided to share an anecdote to break the ice between them. “The first time I ever had butterbeer they got my order wrong. I had ordered a plain one but they gave me one with ginger. I liked it and I’ve been hooked ever since on getting ginger in mine.”

“When do you first try it?” Draco asked out of idle curiosity.

Hermione smiled bittersweetly. “My first trip to Diagon Alley with my parents before our first year at Hogwarts. My father saw other children my age getting it and let me order one. What about you? I bet growing up in a wizarding home that it far younger than me.”

The waitress delivered their drinks and Draco took a small pull from his butterbeer and made a surprised but happy face at the new flavor before he answered. “Actually I hadn’t tried it until the first party in the Slytherin common room as a firstie.”

Hermione had sipped hers as well and daintily dabbed the foam off her lip with a napkin. “Really? That surprises me.”

“My father wasn’t a big fan of butterbeer. He thought it common. But while I didn’t have butterbeer growing up, I did have small glasses of wine and even a sip or two of my father’s best whiskys now and then. Father was trying to ‘educate my palate’ as he liked to say.”

She nodded. “I had small glasses of wine growing up, too. Especially since my parents enjoyed going on holiday to France and touring different vineyards.”

Draco paled a little and looked guilty. He knew that Hermione had oblivated her parents during the war and that it had turned out to be irreversible. He decided to be a decent person and said, “I… I’m sorry about your parents, Granger.”

Her eyes flashed hurt for a second before she replied, “Thank you. At least…,” she trailed off.

Draco finished for her gently, “At least they were safe.”

Hermione nodded and took another big sip of her drink to distract herself from the uncomfortable direction their conversation took.

Draco gave her a moment before he started on why he had asked her to met him in the first place. “So I asked you here to talk about my godfather….”

Hermione looked confused. “Your godfather?”

Draco looked surprised and replied, “You don’t know? Xavier Lavigne is my godfather.”

“I had no idea. I had heard rumors that it was actually Professor Snape.”

Draco shook his head. “No. Xavier and my father went to Hogwarts together.”

“Oh. They’re friends then?” she asked hesitantly.

Draco nodded. “Yes.”

“So he’s a…,” she paled and couldn’t even finish the thought even as her eyes unconsciously fell to Draco’s left arm.

It only took Draco a split second to realize what she was talking about. “No. Absolutely not, Granger. He was not a Death Eater. Nor did he support the Dark… Voldemort. He was completely neutral in the war.”

Hermione looked up and met his eyes. There was an honesty there that surprised her. She nodded. “Arthur Weasley had mentioned he had remained neutral but the way he said it… it made me think there might be more to it than that.”

“Xavier is highly intelligent, cunning, _and_ a good person. If it hadn’t been for his health he’d of made a brilliant Minister of Magic. And to be honest, I think if he had been healthier he would have supported Potter in the war, but he just wasn’t strong enough to openly support either side.”

“Arthur said he was sickly, what exactly is wrong with him?”

“He has _lapis corde_. His heart is slowly turning to stone.”

“Oh, Merlin. Can’t they do _something_? Muggles do heart transplants all the time, surely that would work. I can research the best doctors….”

Draco shook his head sadly. “It’s a curse on his magic itself. If he received a new heart the same thing would happen.”

“How was he cursed?”

Draco sipped his butterbeer before answering. “A rival of his mother who desperately wanted to be Lady Lavigne cursed his mother and tried to kill her while she was pregnant with Xavier. I don’t know all the particulars on how it works, but magical babies in the womb have a sort of wild magic that can protect them and their mothers. Xavier’s magic absorbed the curse thrown at his mother and they both survived but the dark intent behind it festered in Xavier and resulted in his condition.”

“Oh. That’s awful.”

“Yeah. He rarely leaves his estate these days, it’s just too much for him. He tires easily.”

“I don’t know how to ask this without seeming cold, but how… how long does he have to live?”

Draco’s expression turned sad and he replied softly, “No one born with _lapis corde_ has ever lived past fifty.”

“Oh,” she replied equally softly, knowing that Xavier was forty-five.

They sat quietly for a moment before Draco spoke again. “Look Granger, I know you must hate this law with everything you’ve got, but please, don’t take out your anger on Xavier. It’s not his fault.”

“I know that. He actually wrote me a very sweet letter earlier and I’m going for tea tomorrow at Lavigne Hall to meet him.”

“I think you’re going to be surprised by him. You two have more in common than you realize. He’s as big a swot as you.”

She grinned at his obvious teasing. “He said in his letter that he was going to approach this with an open mind and a willingness to learn and grow. I intend to take a leaf from his book and do the same. I’ll save my anger for the Wizengamot and Ministry.”

The waitress came around and Draco looked to Hermione letting her decide if she wanted to endure his company any longer. While they had formed a rather civil truce during the year they both had returned to Hogwarts, they were _not_ what most anyone would call friends. Truth be told, Draco had very few, if any, of those these days. He grinned when Hermione said to the waitress, “I’d like another, thank you.”

“Make that two, please,” Draco replied when the waitress looked to him. She left and they sat quietly for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.

Finally Hermione asked, “May I ask who you got paired with?”

“I didn’t. My betrothal contract was filed months ago, right after graduation.”

“Really? Who are you engaged to? I haven’t seen anything in the Prophet.”

“Astoria Greenglass. She’s Daphne’s younger sister. We’re still sorting everything out and getting to know each other but her father wouldn’t allow me to court her without a contract in place. We haven’t announced anything yet but… ah… I really like her and I think she likes me. So here’s hoping.”

“I remember her. She’s pretty and very clever as I recall. Congratulations are in order then.”

“Thank you. So… how did the rest of your friends do with their Ministry assigned pairings?” Draco asked a bit stiffly, but trying to be cordial and make conversation.

The waitress delivered their drinks and Hermione filled him in on everyone’s pairings while Draco filled her in on the ones he knew. Some weren’t bad, others, however, were beyond ghastly.

They talked casually for a while longer and finished their butterbeers. When they were through Draco put a couple of galleons on the table, paying for their drinks and tipping overly well, before standing and offering Hermione his hand automatically in the gentlemanly way he had been raised.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, completely unused to such displays in such a casual setting and certainly not from Draco Malfoy of all people. She placed her hand in Draco’s and stood gracefully. They walked to the door of Leaky Cauldron and stepped outside.

“Thank you, Malfoy. You didn’t have to do this, but I want you to know I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, though I did it for Xavier as much as I did it for you.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?”

“I do. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad _you_ were matched with someone decent. There are far too many Death Eaters that are eligible and that would been a nightmare for you.”

“I’m glad, too. And I hope things work out well with Astoria.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’m gonna go. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, all things considered. This will sound weird coming from me, but I’m an owl away if you… well need me I guess is a way to put it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

Draco nodded at her before disaparating.

She took a deep breath after he left and looked around. She wasn’t quite ready to go back to the quiet of Grimmauld Place.

……………………

Hermione decided to browse around the open shoppes in Diagon Alley, her thoughts a random mess. She found herself at Flourish and Blotts and in section of the store she had never perused before. She pulled a thick book off the shelf and flipped through it. _Wizarding Aristocracy_ was a dry, rather boring, encyclopedia of all things that she would be marrying into and she wanted to be prepared.

She then went to an entirely different section of the store and found several books relating to magical maladies and specifically _lapis corde._

She paid for her books and headed home to Grimmauld Place. She wanted to go to bed early as tomorrow was going to be a long stressful day.

……………………

tbc... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this has been incredibly positive, thank you all so much! -CJ


	5. Miss Granger:  A Forced Pair Part I

Xavier Lavigne was nervous. Not that he would ever admit to such a common thing, but he was. He had changed his jacket twice not liking how either looked with his waistcoat and kept tweaking his old fashioned silk cravat. He normally did not wear a tie of any sort in the comfort of his own home, but he wanted to make good impression on his future bride, hence his favorite cravat.

He knew he had reached the end of the patience of his ever faithful house elf, Franzy, when the old elf started muttering in exasperation under his breath in his native French. Finally satisfied with his appearance Xavier had Franzy apparate him down to the drawing room.

He looked around with a smile. The elves had outdone themselves. He had merely asked for some fresh flowers around the manor picturing simple bouquets to add a bit of life and color, however, the elves had gone so much further and had completely decorated the manor in autumn flowers and decorations. It was stunning and Xavier almost felt that he should be hosting a grand party and not just a simple afternoon tea.

He knew that the elves were excited to meet the young woman who would soon be their Mistress. The manor had gone far too long without a proper Mistress in their minds. His first wife had done naught to ingratiate herself to the devoted legion of elves bound to the Lavigne family. He hoped Hermione would be different.

Xavier called Muppy, his head housekeeping elf. She appeared in her clean, crisp tea-towel a moment later. With a smile Xavier said to the little elf, “Muppy, the manor looks wonderful. I am very pleased.”

The little elf’s big blue eyes grew wide, Xavier was a most kind and generous master and to be singled out for praise was always an honor. She squeaked a little and clasped her hands tightly together before answering him, “We’s make it pretty for the Master’s new Mistress. We’s hoping she will like it here.”

Xavier smiled again. “I’m sure she will, Muppy. Now you may go on back to what you were doing before I called you away, I know you are very busy. Thank you again.”

“Yes, Master Xavier.”

Xavier chuckled and settled himself in a chair with the Daily Prophet. A short while later another elf brought in two letters that had just been delivered. One was in thick, embossed envelope similar in style to his own stationery and was invariably from Lucius. The other was in plain parchment with his godson’s simple signet gracing the wax on the back. He opened Draco’s letter first.

_Hello Godfather,_

_I hope this note finds you well. I just wanted you to know that I met with Hermione Granger last night and we talked a bit about you and your relationship to me and my family. She’s aware of your condition and I explained its origins. She was not at all repulsed by it contrary to your self-deprecating fears. In fact, she went completely “Granger” and started trying to think of ways to cure you. Though I told her it was impossible, I doubt that will keep her from trying anyway so be forewarned._

_She has a kind spirit, Godfather, and to be honest, I’m actually glad she was paired with someone who will appreciate and respect that about her. She didn’t say it out loud but I could tell she is both angry and terrified over this entire chain of events. Rightly so, in my opinion. I’m glad my contract with Astoria was on file as I can’t imagine being in Hermione’s position._

_Enjoy your tea today, but word of warning, show her the library last or else you’ll never get to eat._

_Draco_

Xavier chuckled at his godson’s candor. He hadn’t expected Draco to meet with her, let alone bear the burden of explaining his godfather’s poor health. In a way though, he was grateful, it took a huge weight off his shoulders for this initial meeting today.

Xavier tucked the note back in the envelope and then reached for the other letter. This one was equally candid and a reply to the one Xavier had sent Lucius late yesterday in which he once again poured out his concerns over being paired with such a young, healthy witch.

_Xavier,_

_Miss Granger is, if nothing else, an intellectual. She will most assuredly appreciate your keen mind and academic pursuits. She has always seemed to be far more mature than those her age around her, my son included, and as such I would pay no heed to the age difference between you. While she exhibited some of our truly Slytherin traits during the war, I suspect that the more Gryffindor concepts of openness and honesty will better received by her. Just be your clever, witty, full of useless information self and all will be well for your first meeting, old friend._

_Lucius_

_And for the love of Merlin, Xavier, do not wear a cravat._

Xavier smirked at the letter. He could hear every word clearly in his head in Lucius’ snobby tone. He reached up and touched his cravat. He had always worn a cravat when formally dressed ever since leaving Hogwarts and its perfect Windsor-knot house neckties that he hated beyond measure. He wondered briefly if he should take off the cravat and follow Lucius’ advice. In the end he left it alone, cravats were a personal quirk of his and his future bride should know that from the start.

He called for an elf and had them put the letters away in his desk. He could have walked the distance to his study and done it himself but he was trying to save his strength as he wanted to personally give his guests a tour of the manor. With that in mind he closed his eyes and let himself doze until they arrived having no doubt that his elves had everything well in hand for their visit.

……………………

Lucius was standing at the window of his study, his hands deep in his trouser pockets, an untouched tea service on the side table long since gone cold.

Narcissa regarded him from the doorway for a moment. Her husband had been rather quiet and introspective since his breakfast with Xavier yesterday. There was something weighing on his mind, she could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He would share it with her when he was ready, he always did, so she would not press him.

Quietly, though not silently as it wasn’t prudent since the war to surprise Lucius from behind, she walked across the room to stand beside him. She looked out at the grounds to see what, if anything, had captivated his attention so. There was nothing particularly interesting that she could see, just bare trees and still-green grass. It _was_ a rather beautiful day though, the sky crystalline blue with lots of bright white fluffy clouds slowly meandering across the sky.

She turned and looked at Lucius in profile. His jaw was tense and his eyes steadfastly focused outside. She turned once again to look out. Lightly she asked, “Do you remember how we would walk the grounds when we were courting? We used to spend hours out there together.”

The corner of Lucius’ mouth quirked up in a half-grin and he replied softly, “So long as we could be seen from the manor by our mothers.”

Narcissa slipped her arm around his. “Let’s go for walk. It’s a beautiful day.”

Lucius turned his head and looked at her. He didn’t say anything but nodded.

She gave his arm a squeeze and released it. “I’ll get our cloaks,” she said as she turned to walk out of the room. She paused before the doorway and teased, “You know, we won’t necessarily have to stay where we can be seen this time.”

Lucius turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder. She had a cheeky little grin and she wagged her eyebrows at him playfully, suggestively.

“Are you propositioning me, Lady Malfoy?”

She lifted her chin haughtily and replied, “And if I am, Lord Malfoy?”

“Then perhaps you ought to hide a picnic blanket in the pocket of your cloak.”

Narcissa’s rich chuckle echoed in the room as she turned and left.

After she was gone, Lucius turned and stepped over to a large cabinet on the other side of the room. He grasped a small handle in each hand and opened its double doors. Inside was a vast menagerie of crystal decanters containing the finest of spirits. While his eyes roamed over all of them, particularly the ones in front containing his personal favorites, his hands never left the door handles, his knuckles white with the determination to keep them there. He swallowed hard and clenching his jaw most firmly, closed the doors once again.

He stepped back and his hands dropped from the door handles. As they always were when he tested himself by opening that cabinet, his palms were sweaty. Uncouthly he wiped them on his trousers, wanting, no _needing_ , to eliminate the evidence of his self-perceived weakness.

He squared his chin and turned and left the study in search of his wife and the promise of a most pleasant distraction without so much as a backward glance at the cabinet.

……………………

“Does this look alright, Harry, or should I change?”

Harry turned to the open door of his bedroom. He was standing in front of the mirror tying his necktie, looking sharp in his dress trousers, crisp shirt, and waistcoat. His navy blue suit coat hanging on the wardrobe door awaiting him.

Harry smiled as he looked at Hermione. She had on a lovely, flowing, calf-length crepe tea dress that was a rich teal with a colorful floral pattern. She had topped it with a matching soft cashmere cardigan that had little pearls for buttons that she left open. She had on simple sling-back dress shoes which she had charmed to match her dress. She had left her hair down and she wore no jewelry and her makeup was light and most natural looking.

“You look fantastic,” Harry answered.

“Are you sure? I have another dress… a fancier one. I could put it on… it would only take a moment,” Hermione said nervously as she gestured down to what she was wearing.

Harry stepped over to her and captured her hands in his before she could futz with and wrinkle the skirt of her dress. “Hermione, you look perfect. I wouldn’t lie.”

She dropped her chin and said softly, “What if he doesn’t think so? What if he hates the sight of me, Harry? What if….”

“None of that is going to happen. We’re going go there and I’ll bet you a butterbeer that the minute he sees you he’s going grin like a loon thinking he’s the luckiest git around.”

She looked up and met his eyes. She sniffed and asked, “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Harry replied.

It was then that they heard Ginny’s voice calling them from the bottom of the stairs having just Flooed over.

Harry grabbed his suit coat and they went down to greet her.

Ginny smiled at the pair as they walked down the stairs. Her own dress was a lovely cornflower blue silk sheath Harry had given her the galleons to buy. He liked being able to do so and had paid for almost an entire new wardrobe for her since their betrothal. She adorned the dress by wearing the two of pieces of jewelry Harry had given her. The gold heart-shaped pendant delicately accenting her decolletage had been a gift from Harry last Valentine’s Day. While it was pretty, and sentimental, it in no way compared to the most conspicuous ring on her finger. The square ruby of the deepest shade encircled by small diamonds was an heirloom from the Potter vault that Harry had proposed with immediately after Ginny had finished her final year at Hogwarts, quite literally on Platform 9 3/4 as she exited the train. It had seemed fitting in his mind to propose where he had first met her all those years ago.

Harry gave Ginny a light peck on the cheek, having dated long enough to have learned to never mess up the woman’s hair or makeup when she was dressed to go out. He stepped aside and put on his suit coat.

Ginny met Hermione’s eyes and asked simply, “Nervous?”

Hermione nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Well, you look gorgeous. And once you put on a smile he’ll never know what hit him,” Ginny offered cheerfully.

“That’s what I told her,” Harry interjected.

Hermione looked between her two dear friends. “Thank you both for coming with me. I don’t think I could do this by myself.”

Ginny reached over and took her hand. “We will _always_ be there for you. And Merlin help him if he doesn’t treat you like he ought to.”

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded before straightening her posture and saying, “Well, we better go.”

……………………

tbc...


	6. Miss Granger: A Forced Pair Part II

Hermione’s jaw fell open as they apparated to the gate of Lavigne Hall. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, something gloomy and reminiscent of their horrible experience at Malfoy Manor perhaps, but she wasn’t prepared in the least for the pleasant, well-tended miniature _castle_ that stood before them.

Lavigne Manor did indeed look like a small castle, it had many spires and crenellations along with intricate decorative stonework and gargoyles. It was made of a warm tan stone with a grey slate roof. There was neatly trimmed shrubbery around it, some evergreen and some having lost its foliage as autumn descended. There also appeared to be thorny rose bushes around the manor, and while they, too, were bare and dormant for the colder weather, were healthy and carefully tended and sure to be lush and full of blooms in the spring. The lawns were a lovely, vibrant green and meticulously trimmed. There was a large fountain in the very front of the manor, an enormous dragon with its head tipped back, the water spraying from its mouth imitating fire. There were several other large statues situated on the grounds which Hermione looked forward to seeing up close, a life-size hippogriff being one.

It was most friendly looking and serene. And was so much more welcoming than Hermione could have ever imagined.

“Wow, Hermione, it’s beautiful,” Ginny said, looking around in awe.

“It really is, not what I expected at all,” Harry agreed.

Hermione was still craning her neck here and there to take it all in but she answered softly, “I can’t believe I’m going to live here. In a castle… a beautiful castle. Like some sort of princess in a fairy tale.”

Ginny reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t forget the ‘Lady’ that’s going be tacked onto your name, too.”

“Oh, Merlin. I should have worn the other dress. It’s more formal. He’s going to think me foolish.”

“No, he’s not. Now stop worrying.” Harry said from her other side.

The gates swung open for them and the three headed towards the front door.

The door and entryway were heavily decorated with pumpkins and gourds along with fall flowers and even cornstalks. As they approached the door was opened by a tiny house elf in a pristine, modest tea towel. The elf looked at Hermione with awe and almost adoration but seemed to have been shocked into silence.

Hermione took pity on the little elf. “Hello. I’m Hermione Granger, may I ask your name?”

The elf’s eyes grew even bigger but she finally answered softly, “I is Muppy, Miss. I is the head housekeeping elf.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Muppy. Are you responsible for these decorations?” Hermione asked and gestured with her hand towards the decorations surrounding the entryway.

Muppy was hesitant to answer, very unsure as to whether or not her soon-to-be mistress was happy with her work or not, but finally nodded.

“It’s lovely, Muppy. Autumn is my favorite time of year.”

Before the elf could reply a man’s friendly deep voice came from behind Muppy as the door was opened wider, “I shall have to remember that bit of inside information, Miss Granger.”

It was Hermione’s turn to be rendered speechless as a rather handsome man dressed as though he had just walked out of her mother’s favorite Jane Austen novel stepped into the doorway with a smile.

Harry saw Hermione’s reaction and wanted to grin. Lavigne was _definitely_ not an old codger, something Hermione had been afraid of, instead he was well put together and rather handsome, his smile warm and genuine. Harry knew Lavigne was forty-five years old, more than twice their age certainly, but he wasn’t ancient and wouldn’t be someone Hermione would be embarrassed to be seen out in public with at all. Seeing that Hermione wasn’t moving as she was still a bit shocked, Harry stepped forward and extended his hand. “Harry Potter, pleased to meet you, Lord Lavigne.”

Xavier tore his eyes away from Hermione’s and met Harry’s. He shook Harry’s hand and replied, “Xavier, please, if we’re all to be friends, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance as well.”

Harry took a step back and gently placed his hand on the small of Hermione’s back, nudging her forward just a bit. “And this is Hermione Granger, who’s not normally ever this quiet.”

Hermione turned her head and gave Harry a playful glare, Ginny and Xavier both chuckling at their interaction. Hermione returned her attention to Xavier and extended her hand. “He’s right, I am normally the one talking a mile a minute. This is all just a lot to take in.”

Xavier took her hand in his and bowing over it brushed a kiss over her knuckles. He rose but did not release her hand immediately. Instead he placed his other hand on top, enclosing her small hand in his entirely and said warmly, “That it is. However, I am still very pleased to meet you, circumstances not withstanding.”

He smiled and patted her hand once before releasing it. He looked past Hermione and saw Ginny. “And you must be Ginevra, Arthur and Molly’s daughter. I can see them both in you.”

Ginny stepped closer and he brushed a quick, gentlemanly kiss over her knuckles and released her hand quickly as propriety dictated for the intended of another man. “Ginny, please. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, my father speaks most highly of you.”

“That’s always nice to hear, Ginny,” Xavier said to Ginny. Stepping back he went on to say to all of them, “Please come in and we’ll have a proper visit. Nette, my house elf with an extraordinary talent for baking, has been busy making us all sorts of French pastries.”

As they entered the house he offered Hermione his arm, inordinately pleased when she readily accepted and tucked her arm around his. Harry and Ginny followed suit and Muppy closed the big door behind them. Xavier continued on his thought without missing a beat, “I went to snitch one of the small puff pastries this morning and the bossy little thing smacked my knuckles like I was an errant schoolboy.”

……………………

Hermione gasped in horror, her hand tensing on his arm. It was not at all the reaction Xavier was looking for to his, at least what _he_ had thought, was an innocent ice-breaking anecdote.

He frowned when Hermione asked softly, “She wasn’t made to punish herself for that, was she?”

Xavier stopped walking and turned to face Hermione. “I have never abused nor made any elf punish themselves, Hermione. My parents raised me to respect them and other creatures. The elves bound to the Lavignes are well taken care of even as they take care of us. I consider them part of my family.”

“You truly feel that way?” Hermione asked, almost not believing.

“Indeed I do. Here, allow me to ease your mind,” he said and called for Nette.

An older elf appeared in her clean tea towel covered by a sage green apron painted with flour, smears of chocolate, and what appeared to be raspberry jam. “Oui, Master?” the little elf said in a thick French accent.

“Nette, this is Miss Granger. I was telling her about you rapped my knuckles earlier for attempting to pinch one of your pastries and she is concerned you were punished for it. Please answer her questions honestly.”

“Oui, Master,” Nette answered and looked to Hermione.

“Hello, Nette. Can you tell me what happened after you smacked his hand?”

Nette put her hands on her hips and why Xavier had called her a bossy little thing became evident as she replied with her nose in the air, her attitude most haughty, “Master pouted. Then Master went and ate his proper breakfast as he should.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide at the elf’s candor. This was certainly not a shrinking violet of an abused elf but Hermione had to ask, “Were you punished or made to punish yourself?”

Nette’s ears dropped lower and her eyes narrowed. “Never!” she replied adamantly, “Master never punishes.”

Hermione smiled widely. “I’m very glad to hear that, Nette. I get very angry when I hear of house elves being abused or made to hurt themselves.”

Nette relaxed. “That does not happen here. Master Xavier is kind to us. Always.”

“Good. Thank you for telling me, Nette.”

“Je vous en prie, Mistress.”

Nette looked to Xavier and after he nodded, she disapparted with a little pop.

It took Hermione a moment to gather the nerve to face Xavier and was surprised to see humor on his face and not irritation at the situation. A little bashfully she said softly, “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

“On the contrary, Miss Granger, it pleases me greatly that you would defend them so. It rather vexes me that many in our wizarding world treat them as unworthy of even the most basic kindness and respect.”

The wide, beaming smile which his reply elicited from Hermione absolutely stunned Xavier, so much so that his jaw actually dropped a bit. The true happiness that his response had brought out in her completely surprised him. He had honestly never expected, certainly not this soon if ever, in their, well, _relationship_ , for lack of a better word, that he would be on the receiving end of such a genuine and guileless smile from the young witch he was being forced onto by the Ministry. It gave him a bit of hope that their future marriage might be warm and caring and not so very bleak.

They stood just looking at each other’s faces for a long time. It was an intensely intimate moment regardless that they were not alone and were standing in the middle of the grand foyer of the manor.

……………………

Hermione was having similar thoughts. Xavier was turning out to be someone with ideals she herself held dear. Outwardly he seemed to be a gentle man, extremely polite, kind, and with a glint of humor that lead her to think he was perhaps someone with a personality that just might mesh well with hers. He was also rather handsome and very well groomed, even if his clothes were a bit old-fashioned. There were many in the wizarding world who dressed as though they were time travelers from days past, so she did not concern herself overly with that especially considering that his clothes were of the highest quality and meticulous. He was not at all a man she would be mortified to introduce as her husband,

With the beautiful manor and its charismatic lord both making her feel welcome and wanted, she, too, like Xavier, began to feel more hopeful about the future the Ministry was imposing upon them.

……………………

tbc...


	7. Miss Granger: A Forced Pair Part III

Xavier attempted to lead them on a slow and stately tour of Lavigne Hall, however, the portraits were trying unsuccessfully to be subtle about following them and gawking at the young woman who would be the next Lady Lavigne.

When their whisperings grew to nuisance levels Xavier paused in the hall and addressed them in good-humored exasperation. “All right, all right, to the gallery with the entire lot of you and we’ll do a proper introduction all at once so that I may be able to conduct the rest of my tour in peace.”

Hermione’s hand flew to her mouth to hide the smile and she bit back the giggle threatening to come out. Harry didn’t even try and chuckled audibly behind them. Xavier turned to the three other living people in the hall and smirked before saying to Hermione, “Needless to say, I think the portraits are excited to meet you, Hermione.”

He offered her his arm once again and they made their way to the large gallery at the end of the hall.

He paused at the wide double doors and politely gestured to Harry and Ginny to go on inside. Then he turned to Hermione and said, “I tend to be a fairly straightforward and rather pragmatic person, Hermione, something that I hope will serve us well in the short betrothal we are allowed. I want us to both feel free to speak plainly to one another and not walk on tenterhooks and worry about inadvertently offending each other.”

“I am the same way,” Hermione admitted, “and I agree with you. It will be hard to get to know one another if we’re constantly worried about saying the wrong thing.”

“Exactly. So on that note I must say something.”

Hermione’s eyebrow raised in curiosity, “What is it?”

“Just that you never have to hide your smile or your laughter, even if I am the one you are laughing at. I’m known to have a fairly good sense of humor, especially of the self-deprecating kind, and…,” he trailed off and swallowed a bit nervously.

“And?” she asked.

“And… well… you have a very lovely smile that I find myself rather looking forward to seeing,” he stammered out a bit nervously.

Xavier was not the only one a bit nervous. Hermione dropped her eyes and blushed a little. There was no sense of guile in Xavier’s compliment, nothing Slytherin about it at all, she felt that he genuinely meant what he said. Very few people, well, _men_ , in her life ever used words like lovely or pretty when they complimented her, it generally that she was clever and smart, not that she minded those kinds of compliments, but it was rather nice to hear compliments about her appearance every now and again. She took a breath before looking back up and meeting his eyes again. She smiled widely and replied, “Thank you. And I will try to remember that.”

It was a smile Xavier returned happily. This was all going so much better than he could have ever imagined. How he got so lucky to be paired with this particular witch he just didn’t know, but he thought that he must have done something particularly right in his life for the fates to reward him so.

……………………

The gallery was an enormous room. The floor was white marble and the walls, molding, woodwork, and ceiling were all painted a gentle white, all to better see the and appreciate the fine art collected in the room. There were comfortable chairs and padded benches placed strategically around the well-lit room. Statues of all shapes and sizes littered the room on pedestals and the walls were heavily occupied by fine paintings, both magical and Muggle alike- paintings Lavigne Hall’s portrait residents from the entire manor were crowding into all around the room.

Xavier lead Hermione to the center of the room, smiling at the awestruck expression on his guests’ faces as they looked around the space. Harry and Ginny were in a corner of the gallery, both captivated by a large marble statue that was an entire Quidditch pitch in miniature carved out of a single block of granite.

Hermione, meanwhile, looked around, her eyes trying to see everything. She took it all in and turned to Xavier with a the awe shining on her face. “This is so beautiful.”

Xavier glanced around at the art and replied, “I am quite proud of this collection and I always enjoy spending time in this room.”

“I can see why, it would be quite easy to lose track of time in here, there is so much to see.”

They slowly made their way around the room and met back up with Harry and Ginny.

Ginny grinned at Xavier. “It’s like a whole museum in here.”

“Did you collect all of this?” Harry asked.

A raspy voice thick with a French accent answered Harry from one of the portraits before Xavier could get out a word. “Yes, he did, and a fine job he did, too.” The pride evident in her voice.

They all turned to the portrait of a regal elderly witch that the voice had come from.

“Hello, Grandmother,” Xavier said warmly.

“Xavier. I believe you promised us proper introduction to your guests.”

“Indeed I did, Grandmother,” Xavier replied to her before looking around to all the paintings and saying, “Everyone, may I have your attention?”

It took a long moment but finally all the portraits were still and quiet, but practically quivering in expectation. Xavier gestured towards Harry and Ginny and said warmly, “May I present Mister Harry Potter and his fiancée Miss Ginevra Weasley.

Harry heard his name run like wildfire through the portraits. A moment later a rousing round of applause sprang from them directed at Harry. As it died down Harry addressed them all. “Thank you, but honestly, it wasn’t just me, I had a lot of help.”

A particularly severe looking old man in a plain black frock coat, muttered loudly, “Nice to see some humbleness from the young, especially from one whose deeds are of a caliber beyond measure.”

Harry gave the portrait a tic of his head and replied, “Thank you, I try, sir.”

The man nodded once to Harry but said nothing further.

One young red-headed witch painted wearing an elegant silk court gown from somewhere in the 1800s was bouncing excitedly in a portrait near Ginny’s shoulder. “Another ginger!” she said excitedly to Ginny.

Ginny smiled and stepped closer to the portrait. “Hello.”

“I love your dress, Miss Weasley. Is it the latest fashion from Paris?” The young painted witch asked gleefully looking for connection to the outside world.

“I don’t know if it came from Paris but it is a current style,” Ginny replied pleasantly.

The young painted witch went a dither and was rattling on about her trips to Paris to build her trousseau when Xavier’s grandmother interrupted. “Brigitte, you can talk about dresses later. Now shush, child,” she said then turned to her grandson and continued, “Xavier, while we are certainly pleased to meet Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, you know it is your bride-to-be of whom we are most curious.”

Xavier smiled at his grandmother. “Of course, Grandmother. Everyone,” he started and placed his warm hand on the small of Hermione’s back, rather pleased when she neither flinched or pulled away from his rather forward action, before continuing, “I’d like to introduce Miss Hermione Granger, who is soon to be the mistress of this house as the next Lady Lavigne. I trust you all will make her feel welcome.”

The din in the room was deafening as all the portraits started speaking at once, each of them wanting Hermione’s attention. Her head was whipping around, attempting to at least make eye contact with them all, an impossible task that Xavier rescued her from.

Xavier clapped his hands sharply to get their attention and the noise receded as they quieted. Addressing the portraits once again Xavier said, “You will all have plenty of time to get to know Miss Granger in the future. Now I aim to continue our tour of the manor and I would sincerely appreciate being able to do so in peace. Understood?”

There was grumbling but the portraits acquiesced to his request and they started shuffling off to their own portraits throughout the manor.

Chuckling, Xavier turned to Hermione. “I do love them all but sometimes I have to be stern with them else you wouldn’t be able to hear yourself think.”

Hermione grinned. “At least they aren’t shouting obscenities at everyone like the portraits at Grimmauld Place.”

“Grimmauld Place? Isn’t that in the Black family?” Xavier asked as he held out his arm to restart their tour, a little flicker of something akin to satisfaction when Hermione immediately took it without hesitation and began telling him all about Grimmauld Place as the four of them exited the gallery.

……………………

Hermione could see Xavier’s energy waning as their tour went on. She thought he might be being rather stubborn about wanting to finish the tour, but she didn’t want him to completely exhaust himself in doing so.

Softly she said, for his ears only, “Draco told me about your heart. We’ve been walking a long time, do you need to rest?”

Xavier kept his eyes straight ahead and took a slow breath in, his intended a very perceptive witch, indeed. However, there was genuine concern in her voice, not coddling or pushiness, just concern for his well-being. The last time a woman had truly displayed that for him had been his own mother. His first wife had coddled him to the point of nausea and through the years since the revelation of her deception, he had come to believe that she had done so in the hope that he would die sooner rather than later. There had been a few other women after her that had desired to become Lady Lavigne, none of them as seemingly accepting of his condition as Hermione. But none of that was what he heard in Hermione’s voice, so he let go of his ever present irritation with his body and turned his head towards her and nodded.

“The stubborn part of me wants to say no, but the reality is that I am getting tired.”

“It’s a huge house, we don’t have to do it all in one day, Xavier,” she replied with a gentle smile.

It was the first time she had said his name and the way she said it in her soft voice sent a shiver of something warm up his spine.

He leaned his head a bit closer to hers and whispered, “I’m starting to think that I am the luckiest of wizards to have been paired with you.”

He saw the blush stain her cheeks but before she could reply he said louder for everyone, “Shall we go dive into Nette’s pastries?”

Harry answered, “Works for me.”

Ginny said teasingly, “Harry has a bit of sweet tooth, never stand between him and a treacle tart.”

Everyone chuckled and with that they headed towards the solarium and the vast spread of food that Nette had prepared for their tea.

……………………

tbc...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just wanted to take a moment to first, and most importantly, thank everyone who has been following this story (and especially to express my gratitude for all the lovely comments and kudos!). Xavier has quickly become my favorite among all the OCs I’ve written through the years and it makes me genuinely happy that others really like him as well. Second, this work was started for NaNoWriMo 2018 and I’m pleased to say that I finished off the month of November with this reaching 64k words. Not all of that is in a direct line from the beginning of the story, however, and is why more hasn’t been posted as of yet. My squirrel of a muse was most thoroughly distracted by the shiny that is Lumione in the second half of the story and I have written some absolutely wonderful sections that I can’t wait to catch up to so I can share them with you all. Thanks again for all the support!  
> -CJ aka WritinginCT
> 
> Oh, and for anyone wondering, I used both Colin Firth’s version of Mr. Darcy and Michael Fassbender’s version of Mr. Rochester as visual inspiration for Xavier. I envision Xavier to look more like a slightly older Fassbender but his mannerisms and carriage to be more of Firth’s. A strange amalgam to be sure but they were my inspiration. -CJ
> 
> Edited to add (as it was brought up in comments below): The gallery was inspired by a blend of Christchurch Mansion in the UK and the Wadsworth Atheneum here in my home state of Connecticut in the US. I recently visited Wadsworth and the experience was almost overwhelming to be surrounded by so much beautiful art and I projected my feelings onto Hermione. It was brought to my attention that my gallery scene was reminiscent of the gallery scene from the 2005 film version of Pride and Prejudice. I've only seen that film once back in 2005 as I prefer the Firth/Ehle mini-series and only have vague memories of the scene in question so any similarity was completely unintentional on my part or else I would have annotated it. -CJ


	8. Miss Granger: A Forced Pair Part IV

Tea had been a warm and friendly meal filled with good humor and getting to know one another. The solarium was full of laughter and an easy companionship with neither Xavier nor Hermione feeling as though they needed to be anyone but themselves.

It was Harry who sobered the mood a little when he said in his normal plain-speaking way, “Xavier, I’ll be honest that all of us who consider Hermione family are concerned about her and her future under this law.”

Xavier nodded and wiped his mouth on his napkin before replying. “That is completely understandable, Harry, and I would expect nothing less. I suspect that had I family members affected by this law that I would feel the same. As far as Hermione’s future, I spelled out my feelings on the matter quite clearly in the letter I sent her. Her future educational and career choices are, and will always be, completely her own. I fully intend to support her in any way I can in that regard. Our marriage will be one of equals, something I insist upon and which will be laid out as clearly and completely as we can make it in our betrothal contract.”

“She shared that with us and it did make us feel a bit better, but there is something else I have to ask, something I hope you won’t take offense at.”

“I believe I know where you are going with this, Harry, and perhaps it does need to be answered out loud. So ask,” Xavier replied, his voice even and his expression still congenial.

“I’m pretty sure that I know the answer to this after the time we’ve spent together, but… do you have any issue at all with the fact that Hermione is Muggle-born?”

Xavier was nodding before Harry even finished speaking. “As I said, I had a feeling I knew what your question was going to be and while I could assert until I am blue in the face that the fact that this lovely young woman being forced to marry me is Muggle-born makes absolutely, positively no difference to me, perhaps a more substantial reassurance is in order,” he said to Harry before calling for an elf.

A young, eager to please elf appeared a heartbeat later. “Ah, Nestor, would you please pop over to the Weasley home and ask Arthur Weasley to accompany you back here? But only if he is not busy, Nestor, please respect his wishes if it is inconvenient.”

Nestor blinked, a bit surprised that Master Xavier would ask him to do something so important. He was young and still learning from Franzy on how to best serve Master Xavier and he took his duties very seriously. “Yes, Master,” he replied and apparated away.

There was quiet in the solarium save for the bubbling of the elaborate stone fountain in the corner. Finally Ginny asked, “My father?”

Xavier grinned. “Indeed, but I’ll let him explain.”

……………………

A moment later Nestor reappeared with a thoroughly pleased Arthur Weasley.

Xavier stood and stepped over to him, his hand extended. “Arthur! Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

Arthur warmly shook Xavier's hand, a smile on his face. “I rather suspected that I would be asked to make an appearance, Xavier.”

Xavier straightened and very formally stated, “I release you from your vow, Arthur Weasley, you may now freely share that which I had made you vow to keep secret.”

A little shimmer of magic washed over Arthur and he visibly relaxed. “Oh, thank Merlin, I felt awful keep secrets from Hermione when I told her what I knew of you, Xavier.”

At her name, Hermione stood and went to stand next to the two men and asked with a questioning raised eyebrow, “Would one of you please explain?”

Arthur’s eyes moved from Xavier to Hermione and he said said gently, “Perhaps it would be best if I showed you, dear.”

……………………

Xavier called for two elves and Nestor and another male elf, Mogg, popped into the room.

Unlike Nestor, the epitome of a healthy young house elf, Mogg was a bit older and his hands, head, and ears all bore many angry looking scars. Also unlike the chipper, enthusiastic Nestor, Mogg was far more reserved, even a bit wary of the strangers. His tea towel was as new and crisp as any of the other elves at Lavigne Hall, but none of the others they had seen showed such signs of obvious abuse. Hermione made a mental note to ask Xavier about it when they returned, there undoubtedly had to be a reason for Mogg’s condition.

Xavier had the pair of elves apparate Hermione, Harry, and Ginny to the far side of the estate.

They arrived in front of a ramshackle hunting cottage which appeared to have been gutted by fire at some point in the not so recent past.

Arthur apparated himself to the cottage and looked a bit nervous as he addressed the three younger people.

“So we all know that there were things that went on during the war that we weren’t all privy to, what I am about to show you is one of those things. It’s a secret I’ve kept since You Know… _Voldemort’s_ regime started.”

“What is it, Dad?” Ginny asked.

Arthur grinned sadly. “Xavier wasn’t well enough to directly oppose Voldemort during the war, but he was able to help the Order in other ways.”

Harry regarded the cottage suspiciously. “How?”

“Come, it will all be clear in a moment,” Arthur replied as he stepped towards the cottage door.

……………………

The three dutifully followed Arthur through the dilapidated doorway, all of them immediately feeling the powerful wards that they had unknowingly stepped through.

The inside of the cottage was… pristine. There was no fire damage, every surface immaculate. It was decorated in the earthy colors of dark green and brown and was rustically, though most comfortably, furnished. The destruction outside was merely a disguise hiding the true nature of the cottage.

Hermione turned to Arthur. “I don’t understand.”

“This was a safe house, a… way station if you will, for Muggle-borns during the war. Xavier couldn’t openly help the Order but he _could_ do this. Over a hundred families passed through here on their way out of the country to safety.”

Hermione’s jaw fell open. “A hundred families?”

Arthur nodded. “I really wanted to tell you yesterday when I was sharing what I knew about Xavier but I couldn’t as I had taken a vow of secrecy. He is truly a good man, Hermione. Blood status means nothing to him, you can have absolute faith in that.”

Impulsively Hermione hugged Arthur, squeezing him for dear life. When she pulled back she looked to Harry and Ginny who were both standing quietly, the same surprise she was feeling evident on their faces.

Determined she said to them all, “I need to go back to the house, will you give us a few minutes before you return?”

Harry responded with a knowing nod. “Absolutely. I think Mr. Weasley is going to show us more of the cottage.”

Arthur was grinning, as was Ginny as Hermione stepped back outside and took Nestor’s hand to be brought back to the house.

……………………

Xavier was standing at one of the plant benches along the glass solarium walls, plucking nervously at a poor thyme plant when Nestor brought Hermione back.

Without a word Nestor left them alone and Hermione went to stand shoulder to shoulder with Xavier. A long and painfully quiet moment passed between them before Hermione’s Gryffindor courage exerted itself and she asked quietly, reverently, “Over a hundred families?”

“One hundred and twenty-six,” Xavier replied, equally reverently.

“Thank you,” she said quietly and reached over to place her hand on top of his that was still plucking at thyme leaves.

“I wish I could have done more. So many lives were lost. Needlessly lost.”

“You did so much more than most, you should be proud of that, Xavier,” Hermione replied with conviction.

Slowly Xavier turned his hand over to gently clasp hers. His voice was soft and rather intimate with a distinct lack of self-confidence as he said, “This law… our… situation… I wish to be a husband you are not ashamed to have, Hermione. You should have been paired with someone young and healthy with a future as bright as your own, someone who, well, …who’s not me.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “I know we are just getting to know one another but I can assure you that there is _nothing_ about you that would ever make me ashamed to call you my husband, Xavier, in fact, it is quite the opposite really.”

Xavier turned his head to regard the earnest young woman beside him. Her eyes met his and they both just stared, something undefinable passing between them. It seemed completely natural for Xavier to lean in and brush his lips softly against Hermione’s after that.

……………………

Later that evening Harry found Hermione curled up on the sofa in one of the sitting rooms of Grimmauld Place, a cup of forgotten hot chocolate in her hand, as she stared lost in thought into the roaring fire in the hearth.

Harry sat at the opposite end of the sofa and made himself comfortable. Quietly he asked, “You okay?”

A little grin curled up one corner of her mouth and she nodded slightly.

“I don’t think Xavier was what any of us expected,” he said.

She turned and met his eyes. “No. No, he wasn’t. Not at all, honestly.”

“You think you’ll be alright married to him?”

She nodded again. “Yes,” she replied simply before taking a sip of her hot chocolate, then added, “more than alright, Harry.”

The little blush on her cheeks made Harry suspect that perhaps a bit more than talking had transpired between Hermione and Xavier when she had apparated back alone from the hunting cottage.

“Mr. Weasley was telling us a bit more about the help Xavier gave the Muggle-born families. He didn’t just let them stay at the cottage, Hermione, he personally arranged to have them smuggled out of the country and he gave them all enough money so they could make new homes abroad.”

“I think he would have fought with us had his health been better, Harry.”

“Me, too. And it makes me feel loads better about your safety.”

“I honestly don’t think I have to worry about that at all,” she replied, a wide grin growing on her face, “Did you see how he was with his house elves? That’s how they should all be treated. Except,” her grin turned into a frown, “poor Mogg. I didn’t get a chance to ask Xavier about him.”

Harry nodded but also frowned a little, “We talked to Mogg a bit at the cottage. Seems he only came to Lavigne Hall recently, just after the war. I guess his former master died at the Battle of Hogwarts and Mogg was freed as the man was the last of his family. Mogg had heard about how well Xavier treated his elves so he went to Lavigne Hall and pledged himself to House Lavigne and Xavier took him in. He said he was very ill and starving when he got there but that Xavier made sure he was taken care of.”

“Oh,” Hermione whispered and bit her bottom lip, not knowing what else to say to that.

“Yeah. I don’t think even Dobby had it as bad as Mogg looking at his scars.”

“Well, he’s safe now,” she replied and then her little grin reappeared before she said, “Nette was something else, wasn’t she?”

Harry chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I can totally see her smacking someone’s hand.”

“And Muppy, she was so sweet.”

“I think you’re going to get a whole new perspective on house elves living there.”

Hermione nodded and went back to staring at the fire. Harry sat quietly next to her, allowing her to get lost in her thoughts once again now that he had checked up on her to be sure she was okay.

……………………

Two owls arrived at Malfoy Manor after dinner.

One, a happy little barn owl who kept butting her head against Draco’s hand looking for a scratch as she hopped around his writing desk in his bedroom after he had taken the sealed letter from her beak.

The other, a regal horned owl, had efficiently dropped his delivery into Lucius’ hands before he flew over to a familiar perch in the corner of Lucius’ study to await an expected reply in a way that spoke of his having done it innumerable times before.

……………………

Draco laughed at the owl’s silly antics, it was hard not to as the young owl was quite the little comedienne.

He broke open the red wax seal on the folded parchment and read the note it contained.

_Draco,_

_I just wanted to let you know that my visit to Lavigne Hall today went very well. Xavier is everything you described and more. And, you were right, we did get on very well. I’m spending the day with Xavier tomorrow and I am honestly very much looking forward to it. He and all of Lavigne Hall were incredibly welcoming and I’m going to enjoy getting to know both better in the coming days._

_I know that our past between us is complicated, Draco, but please know that I am sincerely grateful for our conversation yesterday, it made me far less apprehensive about meeting Xavier today. You and I both seem to be working on being civil and courteous to one another these days and while I’m not quite sure that is happening, maybe because of everything that we both went through during the war or maybe simply because we both have done some growing up, but whatever the cause it’s definitely far better than how either of us used to treat each other, and, truthfully, it’s a nice feeling._

_Perhaps we can meet up for another butterbeer in the future._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

Draco grinned at the letter. She was right, they had both treated each other awfully in school, though if he were to be completely honest with himself, he shouldered more than a good portion of the blame for it.

He didn’t have many friends these days and he wondered if that was something to perhaps work towards with Hermione, especially since she was about to marry his godfather. Astoria kept telling him to take one day at a time and to let people get to know him without all the Pureblood snobbery he had cloaked around himself in the past. He decided that that was probably the best course of action he could take in regards to Hermione. They had actually had a very pleasant time at the Leaky Cauldron last night, rather relaxed and cordial. Maybe as time went on they could repeat it now and again, possibly with Xavier and Astoria joining them. He could see both Xavier and Hermione getting on well with the young woman he hoped would be his wife one day soon.

Draco smiled thinking of Astoria. Connecting with her during the year he returned to school to sit his NEWTs had been a most unexpected surprise.

……………………

_Hogwarts 1998-99 School Year_

Draco sat alone at the far end of the Slytherin table as he watched the new crop of first-years being sorted into their houses, something he never expected to have seen again. But there he was, returned to Hogwarts for his NEWT year, a school year he had never expected to have until he had received a surprising letter over the summer from Professor McGonagall offering him the opportunity. As it turned out, everyone in his year had been offered the same chance, regardless of whether or not they had attended school the year Snape had been headmaster as McGonagall and the board of Hogwarts’ governors had come to the unanimous determination that nothing any of the Death Eaters had taught that year had in any way prepared students for their NEWT examinations. McGonagall’s only stipulation to Draco was that he focus fully on his schoolwork and stay completely out of trouble. It was a requirement Draco had agreed to without hesitation.

This mixing of his year’s classmates along with the year below them who where still on track as they began their seventh year meant that Draco found himself surrounded by people he only peripherally knew, Astoria Greengrass being one of them.

He had known _of_ her, of course, besides being a Pureblood witch long on his mother’s list of suitable wifely candidates for him, she was a fellow Slytherin who had started Hogwarts his second year but he hadn’t known her very well. But that all changed when he returned to Hogwarts and found himself sharing classes with her as she was in her seventh year also preparing for her NEWTs.

At the start of school that September they were polite and courteous to one another, though he was as distant with her as he was with everyone else. He didn’t know just clever she was or how studious, but he learned as the weeks and months went by and he saw her diligently slogging away for hours in the library and the Slytherin common room. Her drive and work ethic reminded him of Hermione Granger as did her fierce protectiveness of those others would torment. The little first- and second-years of all four houses found in her an ally when older students would bully them and said bullies soon found out that she had a very creative repertoire of hexes which she wasn’t afraid to use on them.

Draco found out quite by accident that it wasn’t just the first- and second-years that she defended when he turned a corner in the corridor one late-November afternoon to find that she had two sixth-year Ravenclaw boys backed up against the wall with her wand pointing back and forth between their noses, her schoolbag on the floor and random books scattered beyond it which had likely been in her arms and dumped along with her bag. The Ravenclaws, their house’s Quidditch team’s two beaters, were both nearly double the size of Astoria but were absolutely terrified of the petite witch as she tore into them. None of the three noticed Draco as he took in the scene. His hand automatically reached for his wand as he tried to determine if the two hulking beaters had been inappropriate with Astoria in any way. No one ever talked about it but there _had_ been sexual assaults at Hogwarts in the past, nasty business that was always swiftly and quietly dealt with as not to frighten students into a panic. As he analyzed the situation Draco knew, without question, that what he would do to those two if they had dared to touch her in such a way would not be pretty. A moment later, though, his analysis of the situation was blasted to pieces when Draco heard Astoria defend _him_ most ferociously to the two boys. He froze where he stood, blinking in disbelief as no one save his mother had _ever_ defended him so. Draco was still standing there when she finally let the two boys go and they had taken off down the corridor in the opposite direction. Astoria turned to pick up her things when she caught sight of Draco and stopped dead in her tracks, a deep blush overtaking the delicate lines of her face. Draco didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, but he moved towards her and bent to pick up her books and bag. As he handed them back to her he finally looked her in the eyes again and she smiled warmly at him. Still not knowing what to say he chose to simply nod and smile in return before turning and continuing on his way.

After that Astoria smiled at him whenever he or she would walk into a room and their eyes would meet. Though he still didn’t really talk to her, he began to have idle thoughts of asking her on a date, something innocent and… romantic. Dating was something he hadn’t thought about at all since the summer after his fifth-year when he had been extorted into taking the Dark Mark under fear for his mother’s life and his future had been forever changed and tainted. He didn’t act upon those thoughts, however, not wanting that vile taint anywhere near Astoria because even if _she_ could overlook his past others would not and she would be guilty by association in their eyes, something he was unwilling to do to her.

So he allowed himself to enjoy her smiles and the knowledge that there was at least one person at Hogwarts who didn’t despise him but kept his distance.

However, his concerns were not been shared by Astoria and when he failed to act she took matters into her own hands.

It all started one Friday afternoon in early February when the self-confident, good-natured witch plunked herself down on the opposite end of the enormous leather sofa in the Slytherin common room were Draco was quietly reading his transfiguration text and buried herself in her own potions textbook. Her gentle perfume tickled his nose and he found himself a bit distracted by her in a way that a girl hadn’t distracted him since he was a fifth year.

It was a distraction that turned into quite the piqued interest when she slid down the couch towards him with her potions book in hand and asked him curiously, “Did understand this theory today?” as she pointed to the open page of her book. It was a complex theory that had befuddled a good portion of the students in the NEWT level potions class Draco shared with Astoria.

He cleared his throat a little nervously and began explaining the complex potion theory as he understood it. He had gone on and on realizing she would likely slip away once his explanation was finished and he really didn’t want her to. Much to his surprise, she didn’t immediately slide back away and they spent the next hour talking about potions and some of the other school subjects each found particularly interesting. It was their first real conversation and he couldn’t remember enjoying one more. She smiled at him often, a genuine, guileless smile that made his stomach flip with a warm feeling.

One of her dorm mates attempted to pull her away to go down to dinner in the Great Hall but Astoria declined and after the other girl had walked away, she turned back to Draco and confidently asked him if he wanted to walk down to dinner with her. They sat together at the far end of the Slytherin table and talked all through the meal and continued talking all the way back to their common room all the while ignoring the stares of their classmates.

The evening was winding down, though being a Friday night before a Slytherin Quidditch match the noise in the common room was rowdy as excitement over the match grew and an illicit bottle or four of firewhisky started being passed around. Draco found himself an easy chair in an out of the way corner of the common room, wanting to enjoy the party atmosphere but not wanting to put a damper on everyone’s fun with his presence as it often did. Astoria, however, didn’t hesitate to grab a large throw pillow and plunk it down on the floor in front of Draco’s chair and sat down, seeming not to notice or care about the odd looks she was getting from her fellow Slytherins. She sat with her back against his chair and he was painfully aware that her shoulder was pressing against his leg. Astoria’s sister Daphne brought a half-bottle of firewhisky over to Astoria who took turns with Draco taking swallows out of it as the drunken pep-rally around them turned into an all out party as someone fired up the Weird Sisters on the wireless.

The common room filled with more and more laughter the drunker everyone got. Astoria turned out to be a very silly drunk bebopping there on her cushion to the music, her elbow nudging his knee trying to get him to do the same. Draco found himself grinning at her, feeling relaxed and carefree for the first time in longer than he could remember.

He was contemplating asking her to accompany him to the Quidditch match the next day, thinking it might be a safe first date when things took a totally unexpected turn. Astoria stood up to dance with her sister on legs which were more than a bit wobbly thanks to the quantity of firewhisky the slender witch had consumed, legs that turned to jelly as she went to take her first step and gave out entirely. A beat later Draco had a giggling Astoria sprawled quite happily across his lap. She made herself comfortable with one arm around the back of his neck and the other looped up in front to clasp her hands together, her head rested on his shoulder.

Astoria sighed contently and closed her eyes. She then snuggled down against him a bit more and teased, “I should have done this earlier instead of sitting on the floor.”

Draco was more than a little shell shocked over the entire thing, no one, save his parents, and especially not most all Hogwarts’ girls who looked at him like he was owl dung these days, had willingly touched him since the war, never mind making themselves comfortable on his lap and hugging him like a favorite stuffed niffler.

His arm had been behind her back on the arm of the chair when she had fallen on him, he moved it to support her back with his hand gently curled around her waist. His other arm was across her legs, his hand over top her knees not wanting a tipsy, uncoordinated Astoria to fall off his lap and injury herself.

Draco realized a few minutes later that she was sound asleep there against him and decided not to disturb her for at least a little while before he would escort her to the entrance to the girls’ dormitory. His own eyes closed as he listened to the party winding down as his housemates drifted off to bed. He was in a half-doze when he instantly opened his eyes upon hearing someone right in front of them. He let go of Astoria’s knees and pulled his wand automatically in the space between two heartbeats and after that it took a moment for his brain to register that it was Daphne standing there and not someone he needed to be wary of. She held a throw blanket, one of the rather garish ones emblazoned with the Slytherin crest that were always folded neatly in basket in the corner. She opened the throw and tucked it around her sleeping sister. Though he didn’t think it physically possible, Astoria snuggled even closer to him as the warmth of the blanket surrounded her.

Daphne’s expression was soft with the fondness and love she felt for Astoria before she stood back up and it changed upon meeting Draco’s eyes into a look of concern. He and Daphne had never really gotten on, there was just no chemistry between them as either friends or potential spouses much to his mother’s chagrin.

“You’re all she’s talked about since before the Christmas holiday,” Daphne said quietly.

Draco’s brow furrowed, this was the first he had heard of it, and asked, “Really?”

Daphne nodded then said protectively, “Don’t you break her heart, Draco Malfoy. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Draco looked down at Astoria’s face for a moment then back up to Daphne’s and replied softly, “I don’t exactly know what any of _this_ ,” he said and gestured with his head between he and Astoria, “is or might be yet, but I swear to you that I will never hurt her on purpose.”

His answer satisfied Daphne and she nodded and turned, leaving he and Astoria there under the throw in the nearly empty common room. The warmth of the blanket and the slumbering witch plastered against him soon lulled him into a doze that quickly turned into a sound sleep.

They were rudely awakened awakened several hours later by a boisterous group of first year boys fueled by their excitement for the Quidditch match as they roughhoused their way out of the common room and onto breakfast in the Great Hall. Draco and Astoria both groaned a bit as their firewhisky induced hangovers hit them. Astoria sat up so she could look Draco in the eyes and her movement made him unconsciously tighten his grip a little so she didn’t fall.

Astoria grinned and teased, “If my father saw me right now….”

Draco chuckled then winced at what it did to the pounding in his head before he replied, “Or my mother.”

“I…,” she started then stopped.

“What?” he prodded.

“I really like you, Draco, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to get you to notice me for ages.”

“I noticed, I just…,” he looked away from her.

He felt her fingers on his chin, turning his face back around to hers. “You what?” she asked, her turn to prod.

Draco took a moment and studied all the graceful lines of her face before answering, “I just thought it probably best to keep my distance so people wouldn’t treat you badly because of me.”

Astoria rolled her eyes and answered more than a bit defiantly as she took his face in her slender hands, “For the record, I can take care of myself, thank you very much. But more importantly do you really think I’m the sort of person who would care about that? What other people think or say?”

He didn’t know what to say so he simply shook his head.

Her hands were still on his face, soft and so very warm against his skin, when she replied, “Good, because I’m not. If we want to spend time with each other it’s no one’s business but our own, not the rest of Slytherin or the whole of Hogwarts, and not even our parents since we’re both of age.”

“What about Daphne, including her in there?” he asked with a little smirk.

“No, because I don’t have to. She’s the one who’s always told me I shouldn’t let what anyone else thinks stand in the way of my being happy. She’s the only person who worries about me like that, me,” she emphasized before continuing, “not the family name or my marriage potential as a Pure-blood bride, just _me_ , just _Astoria_.”

He let that echo around his brain along with everything else she had said to him in the past twenty-four hours. He decided to be brave, to let her past the walls he had built around himself since the war. “Would you like to go to the Quidditch match with me today?”

“Thought you would never ask,” she said grinning as she nodded then winced a bit as her head reminded her of her hangover and she cuddled back against him pulling the blanket back up around her.

They dozed for a bit longer before they both reluctantly left their little cocoon to go to their separate dormitories to shower and dress for the day.

Astoria surprised Draco again when she slipped her gloved hand in his as they walked to the Quidditch pitch, and yet again after that when Slytherin won the match and she pulled him in by the lapels of his wool pea coat to kiss him most soundly there in the stands in front of everyone.

……………………

Draco’s eyes grew soft at the memory of those two fateful days, forever glad that Astoria had all the bravery he did not.

They had become nearly inseparable after that momentous weekend. And true to her words, Astoria paid no mind at all to the ugly looks and hurtful whispers and snubs that followed them everywhere they went at school.

Though Astoria said she didn’t care what her parents thought of her choice of partner, Draco had been far too inculcated with Pure-blood traditions and expectations to not seek out her father’s permission to formally court her with the intent of marriage, something he did mere days after they had graduated Hogwarts.

Draco’s impeccable lineage itself was as highly appealing to the Pure-blood Greengrass patriarch as the name Malfoy and all that came with it, was not. In the end, however, her father had given his blessing to the courtship with the stipulation that a formal betrothal contract between Draco and Astoria be filed with the Ministry before things went any further between the couple.

It had been a stipulation Draco and Astoria could live with and, much to the chagrin of all their parents whom they excluded entirely from the process and all the petty demands they would have wanted included, the young couple quickly wrote and filed their simple betrothal contract at the Ministry.

In the months since then things between them had progressed well as they both transitioned their lives from that of being students to that of being independent young adults. Step by step, conversation by conversation, and show of support by show of support they were building a future together, one Draco honestly never thought he would have.

Draco shook himself out of his reverie and grabbed a piece of fresh parchment. He quickly scratched out a short note of reply for Hermione and gave it to her cheerful little owl. 

……………………

Lucius settled himself back at his desk where he had been diligently working through a complicated contract for a new business venture and opened the letter from Xavier.

Lucius smiled warmly as he read it. It sounded as though Xavier had been quite thoroughly awed by Miss Granger. Xavier’s letter rambled, a random meandering of thoughts and impressions without real structure or direction, something that only happened when Xavier was flustered else he was known for being most elegant in his epistolary prose. Lucius had suspected that Xavier would get on well with the girl and he was glad for Xavier that he did, he deserved a wife who would treat him with respect and kindness as well as one who challenge his intellect, and, Lucius thought sadly, be willing to protect Xavier and fight for him as his health declined in coming years. Lucius had no doubt that Miss Granger was, despite how young as she may be, such a woman.

Lucius dropped the letter to the desk and rubbed his chin with his fingers as he thought about Miss Granger a bit more. There was certainly no question of her intelligence, Draco had lamented all through school that she bested him at every turn not to mention that the general public consensus was that had it not been for her that Potter would never have been able to defeat the Dark Lord. Yes, Miss Granger was most certainly a resourceful, intelligent, and strong-willed witch, qualities any woman about to be suddenly thrust into the aristocratic sphere such as she was about to be needed to have in order to have any hope at all of surviving socially.

Physically she had matured into a lovely young woman far removed from the awkward little girl Lucius had first seen at Flourish and Blotts so many years ago. And, Lucius forced himself to remember, there was nothing particularly repulsive about either of her parents in appearance save for the fact that they were, of course, Muggles. Her mother in particular had been a fairly pretty woman in a rather plain sort of way whom he could see much of in the adult version of Miss Granger.

Lucius grinned to himself thinking that Xavier would most certainly avoid having children with protruding brows and slack jaws like many of the Pure-blood families found themselves having the closer inter-married they became. No, Xavier and Miss Granger would, in all probability, have a very handsome and intelligent child together, and hopefully, as Miss Granger was Muggle-born and not plagued with the ever-increasing fertility problems of Pure-blood witches, it would be children, plural, no one deserved to be surrounded by a healthy, happy family more than Xavier. He had been alone far too long. Lucius just hoped that Xavier’s health would hold out past expectation and that Xavier would live long enough to know his children and they him.

Shaking off that last maudlin thought, Lucius pulled out a fresh piece of stationery and picked up his quill. He wrote a rather succinct reply, inferring in it though not quite coming right out and saying _‘I told you so_ ’.

Lucius stood and opened the window before he walked over to the owl perch. In motions familiar to both man and owl, he held out the note and said, “Back to your master with you, Charbon.”

The owl let out small coo in response before closing his beak around the the letter and taking off through the open window out into the night.

……………………

tbc...


End file.
